Last weekend, we took the boys to a skate park for the first time. They skate around the neighborhood on their little scooters, and watch others kids doing cool tricks they learned at a skate park. So naturally, they’ve been “asking” us to take them to the nearest skate part for a while.
We finally went.
When we arrived, there were kids zooming everywhere. It was obvious our boys were the rookies. So Scott did, what only he would think to do. He found the best skater in the park, a guy who was doing backwards aerial flips off the side of the bowl. He got out a twenty, and offered to pay him to show our boys the ropes. Said skater quickly obliged.
I stood back, intrigued, taking it all in.
He started with the basics. He talked about the scooter, the shocks and the wheels. He told them where to go to get a “real” scooter. Then he got around to sharing how to do the most basic tricks. . . the bunny hop, the bar spin and the tail whip. The boys were anxious to learn how to do bigger tricks, but he insisted they had to get comfortable with the basics first. He showed them his perfect aerial flips a few more times and I couldn’t help but pipe in.
How many times have you missed your landing on that flip?
“Too many to count. I’ve broken so many bones. I cracked my skull open six inches and was in ICU for weeks.” But you’re still here? (& without a helmet!?!?) “Yeah, I love it too much to quit.”
That’s exactly what I wanted the boys to hear.
Well, not the skull cracking part, but failure part. That skater didn’t watch some YouTube videos and show up skating like a pro. He learned the way we all do. Trial and error. Blood, sweat and tears. His legs and arms were covered in scars to prove it.
But he loves it too much to quit.
Of course, I’m not condoning that kind of dedication to freestyle skating, without a helmet and all. But there’s always a bigger story than what you can see on the surface. Always.
No one ever gets good at anything without the scars to show for it.
Once you realize that, it frees you to make informed decisions. Either to keep pressing on towards honing your craft, or to realize the sacrifice required is more than you’re willing to pay . Whenever you love deeply, whether it’s in marriage, parenting, friendship, writing, sales, entrepreneurship, creativity, skating. . . the list could go on and on.
Learning to do it well will always leave a mark.
But it’s that same love, and dedication to honing your craft, that makes you exactly the right person we need to leave your mark. If you’re honing your craft at something you are called to do. . .
The short-term pain is worth it.
The scars are worth it.
They will be your story, as long as your willing to tell it.
We need your love to leave a mark.
to more love,